Project ANGEL
by usaangel509
Summary: Miserable at some lame ass job, Dean is bored and starts ranting about his days to the sleeping experiment that keeps him company while he works. He even develops a fondness for the little guy. Work is work. That is, until he meets eyes with the prettiest blue he's ever seen.
1. Chapter 1

"As you can guess, Mr. Winchester, tight lips are an absolute when working in this facility. What you do, what you see, or hear, is to be kept to yourself." The sharp staccato of heels meeting tile reverberated throughout the hall in which two bodies briskly walked. "Secrecy is key. We do not need any of our research getting out. It could be disastrous."

A thin brunette dressed in a plain grey suit stopped at a door, pressing in a key code and pausing to look at the male beside her. Green eyes met pale blue momentarily before the door opened with a soft _whoosh_ and they proceeded their walk.

"We specialize in biological study. Of course, I can not tell you everything we do, nor why we do it. I can, however, tell you that some of our experiments are now living and you would do well to exercise caution around them. We have a total of seven, currently, two of which have finally made it to the final stages of their... _Process_. "

"Wait, so you mean to tell me there's science projects walking' around?" A deep voice interrupted, causing a slightly exasperated sigh to slip through thin lips.

"No, they are confined to their quarters. It would be very dangerous to have them loose." Another pause as they went through another pair of doors that led to a bright office. Everything was white. The walls, the floors, even the desk and chairs. A thin hand gestured to one of said chairs that sat before the long white desk. The woman went behind the desk and took a seat in a plush looking office chair. The male sat in the suggested chair, looking expectantly at the woman before him. A nameplate on her desk read _Naomi Rightson - Director_.

"We'll need you at night, seeing as most of our scientists prefer to work during the day and we can't have you getting in the way. Six in the evening to seven in the morning, can you do that?" A pause for a nod. "Very well then, you can begin tonight. I'll have Samandriel show you how we do things and how everything works. And please, Mr. Winchester, _discretion_."

"Yeah, uhh, no problem Miss Rightson. Tonight at six?" Came the gruff reply.

"Actually, you're going to be briefed before you leave. And please, simply Naomi works just fine. Just a moment." Not even five minutes later, a thin man, no a _kid_ , the seated man thought walked through the door. "Show Mr. Winchester the responsibilities he will have while under our employment "

A quick nod and the kid turned to the seated male and gestured for him to follow. He rose, walking easily behind the smaller male. He looked meek, mild tempered and so, so young. He couldn't have been a day over sixteen.

"I'm Samandriel, but you can call me Sam. What's your name?"

"The name's Dean Winchester." The male, Dean, gazed over at his new coworker. "Got a brother named Sam. How 'bout that?"

"Okay, Dean. It's pretty simple to work here. Keeping to yourself is the best way to go. Just follow orders and you'll be alright." Samandriel took him down several hallways, each one too white, too bright from the lights in the ceiling. They came up to a room titled _Supplies_ and the younger male typed in a few digits and after a loud _click_ , opened the door.

"I'll get you your list for the codes, they're changed every week so make sure you always get a new one on Monday. Our carts are over here, I was told you're going to be our new mechanic too, so you'll also get a toolbox with your cart. Things don't usually break around here, but we can always use more help to clean." As he spoke, he started to gather various bottles and materials to place on an empty cart. He spared a quick glance to his companion to make sure he was listening before continuing. "Miss Naomi is real particular about cleanliness. Everything has to be wiped down, disinfected. Most of the scientists aren't here while we are here, so it's pretty chill." Samandriel paused, looking over at Dean. "Any questions?"

"Yeah, what kind of experiments do you guys got goin' on in here. She said some of them are _living_?" Dean questioned, a grimace playing on his face. His companion got oddly quiet, suddenly preoccupied with the piece of paper in his hand.

"Well, I don't know a lot. I mostly just know about my own wing, and what I hear from the others about their wings. We all get assigned our own wings, I know on my wing there's an experiment they named Anael. She looks just like a girl, but she's dangerous. I try to just get everything cleaned up quickly. She makes me uncomfortable. She just watches me." He fidgeted slightly, frowning to himself before smiling over at Dean.

"Hold up, they _made_ a person?"

"Yeah, is it really so hard to believe?"

Dean frowned. "That don't worry you, at all?"

Samandriel shook his head, turning to Dean and handing him a white piece of paper.

"Here's your codes. They named each wing, there's seven of them, after days of the week. It looks like you'll have Thursday. I started on that wing. I didn't like it, the experiment there is still sleeping, but I got some weird feelings in there. Then they moved me to Friday, and I feel uncomfortable, but not as bad as Thursday. Adam has Sunday, but he said he feels comfortable with his experiment. First thing you do is wipe everything down with this," he picked up a piece of material and a spray bottle, " floors are always last, this way if there's anything on the counters or tabletops you can just get it up later."

Samandriel went over his list of duties, from checking all the machines in his wing, to how he was supposed to wipe even the chairs and even to how he should walk while around his experiment so he doesn't ' _offend_.'

Dean mentally sighed, if it wasn't for Sammy, he wouldn't be here in this creepy ass place with his creepy ass boss and these creepy ass experiments. Never did he think he'd work as a _janitor_ , but after his latest mishap, he was lucky that Sam was able to get him a job anywhere. He was grateful, just not enthusiastic about cleaning up after a bunch of people around weird ass creations every night.

His boss seemed to have some serious issues. She was overly friendly, but he could see the tight control she exhibited in the way she moved, could see the harsh ice in her eyes. Her friendly demeanor was definitely a front, he thought. Even the kid he was supposed to learn from said she was particular, she was probably just a control freak.

But these experiment things? He wasn't sure about them. There were just some lines you didn't cross, and from what he knew, he could only wonder how many of them were left behind in the creation of something unnatural that was supposed to be natural. What could be so different about them if they were created and not born?

Shaking off the feeling of unease that came over him with his train of thought, he tuned back in to what Samandriel was saying. ".. So as long as you don't try to mess with anything that seems to be in use, the scientists usually don't complain. Sometimes they leave it overnight to continue the next day. So, yeah, there's a list of codes and a list of what you have to do, just incase you forget, waiting for you on your cart. Your uniform is in your wing, each one has a different one. I guess because each experiment is different." Dean nodded, frowning to himself at the sheer amount of things he would do well to remember. "So yeah, I'll see you tonight!"

Samandriel smiles brightly at him, teeth showing and all. How he could possibly be so cheerful in such a drab work environment, Dean would never know.

With a one armed wave, Dean took his list of codes so he could get back to his cart and left the building. He walked quickly to his car, his beloved baby, a gleaming black '67 Chevy Impala. Opening the door, he slid in to the driver's seat. He pulled out his phone, sent a quick text to his brother Sam and started his car to head home for a few hours of shut eye before his long first night in his new job


	2. Chapter 2

The deep rumbling purr of the Impala reverberated throughout the almost empty parking lot as Dean pulled in to a parking spot close to the building. He cut the engine and pocketed his keys as he opened the door to get out. He walked up to the large, two story building, taking in the bland appearance of the grounds and entered the main key code.

Once inside the cool building, he made his way back to the supply closet to grab his cart. The building seemed vacant, was there even anybody else here?

He pushed his cart to the main hall of the building, turning down the corridor to his right to the wing labelled as Thursday. He hummed _Highway to Hell_ under his breath, stopping to grab his dark blue uniform at the entrance and pulling it on over his jeans and plain black T-shirt.

The entire building so far had been white floors, white walls too clean and perfect. It creeped him out that anywhere could be so freaky clean. He stepped up to a large, thick glass door and punched in his keycode and waited for the loud click as the lock slid in place and the doors parted to allow him entrance.

He found it odd that his first night he would be working alone, but as he checked over his list of _to-dos_ he wasn't nervous about the simple tasks he'd have to do. Honestly, it was the thought of what kind of experiment was waiting for him.

Was it a monster? A horribly disfigured person sure to haunt his dreams? He wasn't sure he wanted to find out. But, work is work. He would have to do what he could until he could find a better job, hopefully beneath the hood of some classic car.

He held tighter to his cart and pushed past the doors, stepping in to a near frigid room. It wasn't what he expected. It wasn't white, instead it was stainless steel. Everything. The table tops, the stools, most of the tools, even the walls. Stainless steel and glass. The floors were a cool blue tile, impeccably clean and stretching the entire length of the very large, very long room. No windows sat in the walls. The ceiling was insanely high, much higher than any building he'd ever been in. The ceiling had to have been at least thirty feet high, maybe even more. But that wasn't what caught his eye the most.

In the very center of the room was a massive tube filled with a liquid that seemed to glow a color close to seafoam green and emanated light enough to light the entire room in a dull green. Floating in the middle of that glass container, was a person curled up in the fetal position with their ankles crossed before them. A mop of thick, dark hair seemed to sway with some invisible current. He couldn't see any facial features. There were tubes everywhere on the pale form. Stuck in various places in the arms that were loosely wrapped around pale knees. Coming from behind the knees in the area he could only guess was the face.

It was eerily quiet beside the occasional sound of a rush of bubbles travelling to the surface of the liquid in the massive tube. His hairs stood on end with how weird he was feeling standing there in the entrance of his wing staring at this person-like experiment. He spotted a square plate at the base of the large tube and took slow, wary steps closer to the apparently sleeping form.

He squinted in the dim lighting to make out the letters.

 _#5 - Castiel_

"Castiel, huh?" He wasn't sure why he was talking aloud, but he figured it couldn't hurt anything. In fact, maybe it would help him to feel more comfortable in the increasingly uncomfortable environment. "Well, that's a mouthful, so I hope you don't mind Cas."

He stepped back and away to his cart, starting to hum a nameless tune as he flipped the light switch to turn on the very, very dim overhead lights.

He started by grabbing the sanitizer and spraying the counter tops and shelves thoroughly before grabbing his microfiber cloth and starting to rub everything down. Every time he turned his back to the massive tube, he felt eyes staring down at him and grew increasingly uncomfortable.

It was silly, he knew, but he thought the feeling disappeared when he faced it instead. So he made sure to adjust the way he was disinfecting the beakers and wiping down any surface he could reach so that he was also facing toward the massive glass tube. As he worked he hummed various songs from Metallica, Led Zeppelin and even AC/DC. A few hours passed and he didn't even notice until he glanced down at his watch.

He worked his way clockwise around the room, leaving the large desk directly in front of Castiel for last. He glanced at the long surface, littered with various papers and sketches.

He angled his head to get a better look at a specific one of a male body, well muscled and labelled with various science jargon he didn't understand. He looked it over, flipping to the page underneath and skimming through a paragraph in the middle of the page.

 _Subject unresponsive to all stimuli. Electrotherapy evokes no change in brainwaves. No indicators of pain response to any amount of charge. Subject believed to be aware-_

"Hey, Dean! Are you almost done in there?" A loud voice caused him to jump and quickly place the paper back down. He glanced up at Samandriel just as he walked into the room. "We're going to get lunch in the cafeteria, you coming?"

A shaky exhale left his lips and he smiled and nodded at his coworker. He got a bad feeling in the pit of his gut about revealing that he was reading the scientist's work, unsure how his coworker would react. He didn't want to get fired for peeking

"Uhh, yeah. I was just finishing up this table. Be there in a sec!"

He expected the kid to leave after saying that and acting like he was cleaning and not trying to snoop in no way, nope not him, but he didn't. Instead he stood there with an oddly blank look in his eyes and a false smile on his mouth.

Th'hell was his problem? That was weird as all hell.

He shrugged and tossed his rag down, heading over to meet the kid and place his hand on his shoulder to steer him away from his wing. The look on his face seriously rubbed him the wrong way.

So far, everything in this place was weird. Was it so unusual for members of the staff to be as well?

"So how are you liking your first night? Is it creepy?" The kid seemed to be animated again, all polite and friendly formality as they walked down several halls to the cafeteria, eyes no longer glazed over and far away.

"Uhh, it's alright. Can't complain too much, and the creep factor is way high when you got people in fish tanks." He responded and drew a light laugh from the male beside him.

"It'll get easier. Once you work here for a while you kind of get used to it. I don't think any of us here weren't weirded out at first."

"Good to hear because it is like a serious sci-fi movie up in there." They came up to probably the only doors in the entire facility that didn't have a lock and pushed them open. There were eight round tables, each one with seven chairs seated around them. Along the far back wall was a buffet style setting, with various foods set out to be eaten.

Sitting at the table closest was a group of people. There was five of them, seven if he included himself and Samandriel.

"Here we are, hey fellas!"

They approached the others at a steady pace as Samandriel pointed out who was who.

"Right there is Adam, sitting next to him is Kevin, then Charlie, the ever lovely Bela, and last but not least Garth. They're the other cleaners here." As he spoke, he pointed out each individual person.

Adam seemed to have a build smaller than himself but bigger than Samandriel, with a pleasant enough looking face, dirty blonde hair and pale green eyes. Kevin beside him was of an Asian background with long black hair. He looked just as young as Samandriel, but looked terribly shy whereas the other male had a constant smile. Beside him was a pretty redhead who raised a hand to wave and smiled brightly at him. He liked her. She seemed friendly enough. To her side sat a brunette vixen, as fierce as she was beautiful. With that mischievous glint in her eye, Dean wasn't sure if he should try to befriend her or not, but he sent her a flirtatious wink because hey, why not? She was hot. And the last one, Garth, was a very lanky kid with a goofy face and medium length brown hair. He, too, waved and smiled so Dean also felt a positive vibe coming from him as well.

"This is Dean, it's his first night. He's over in Thursday." Samandriel told them, sliding out a chair and sitting down.

"Hi, I'm Kevin." Kevin spoke in an open, friendly matter but his face looked stressed to the max. He could make out dark circles beneath his eyes. Was he okay?

"Don't mind him, he has a lot on his plate. He's worried about his college exams. I'm Charlie." The redhead smiled and gave a salute, Dean immediately liked the vibes she sent off.

"Bela. Charmed." She had a pleasant, velvety voice, but spoke as if she believed she was better than those around her. Stuck up, Dean would call it.

"Aw, shucks, c'mere and gimme a hug, big guy. You're part of the family now." Garth rose from his chair, immediately moving to hug Dean. A small round of chuckles came from the other coworkers at Dean's expression. Garth pulled back, slapped him lightly on the shoulder and sat back down.

"Don't worry, he grows on you," said Charlie. "Are you hungry? Food's over there."

"Starved. I could probably eat a horse about now."

Dean started to like her more and more as she pointed in the direction of food. Dean noticed Samandriel already heading over so he trailed behind him.

He grabbed a plate and looked at the spread before him. There was a section for salad, various dressings and toppings around the large bowl of salad. Beside that, there was a pizza, a pan of baked ziti, a tray of burgers, chicken and ribs, condiments were also around the tray. Then there was another section dedicated entirely to dessert.

He noticed some usual desserts, cookies, brownies, slices of cake, but what had him the most excited was the pie. There were two of them, one visibly apple and the other he guessed was cherry.

He got two burgers and a nice slice of apple pie, a cup of soda and sat down at the table. The idle chatter the others had begun died down and they looked at him expectantly. He paused, burger halfway to his mouth.

"What?"

"Welllll... How do you like it?" Charlie started.

"Like what?" He replied.

"Y'know, working in Thursday? Working in a super weird lab? Pretty much being in some sci-fi movie with a bad plot?"

"It's work," he said after a brief chuckle. Yeah. He's going to like her a lot. It's not like he actually liked this job, though, he just needed somewhere to earn money until he can go somewhere more preferable. Somewhere he could lose himself in loud music and grease and car parts.

"You aren't scared? Being in there?" Kevin asked through a mouthful of cake.

"Why would I be?" This confused Dean, his wing was relatively simple. Easy to clean and his experiment was sleeping. What was there to fear?

"Well, because the experiment there doesn't like anyone being in there. Even the scientists are weird about being in there with him." Added Adam, very matter-of-factly and receiving a weird look from Samandriel.

Dean frowned.

"Uhh, it's alright. Nothing too weird or anything. Y'know, just some fish people floating in tanks. But really. Just here to do my job and go home."

"Just be careful, yeah?" Began Charlie, nibbling on a cookie and rolling her eyes. "Don't let these guys freak you out. They've never actually been in there. Only Samandriel has worked in there out of the six of us. He just got weirded out. All the experiments have their temperaments."

Dean flashed a slight smile and nodded before continuing to eat his food. So far the other workers seemed relatively okay. What was up with Samandriel earlier then? Did he know Dean looked at the paperwork?

"Speaking of temperaments, how is your lovely troublemaker, Charlotte?" Bela spoke up, eyeing the woman coolly.

Charlie's mouth twitched at the use of her full name before speaking animatedly. "He's wonderful. He moved all of the scientist's tools to the ceiling, they were so mad that they left early. Some hardcore _leviosa_ jazz. He told me the real fun is when Naomi visits him, though. Apparently, she always leaves in a huff from his wing."

The other occupants of the table chuckled while Dean's curiosity piqued.

"Your experiment plays pranks?" He questioned. Didn't Naomi say they were contained?

Charlie chuckled. "Oh yeah. Big time. If they weren't so scared of him, I'm sure the science guys would try some form of punishment. He's relentless. Sometimes he hides my supplies, too."

"I thought they were all contained and what not?"

"They are," answered Kevin. "Her experiment has telekinetic abilities. He's the most active, so you'll hear more about him than the others." He still seemed like he was extremely stressed, but it seemed to have died down a bit.

"Oh," Dean answered lamely. He didn't think to question which experiment she actually had.

He felt the beginnings of worry start in his stomach before squashing it down.

He had no reason to worry. It wasn't his problem. As long as he got a paycheck, he was fine. His experiment was sleeping, anyway. He didn't think it would wake up any time soon either.

"So what's the point of these experiments?" Dean questioned and all eyes went to him. Several of his coworkers shrugged, but Samandriel spoke up first.

"We are not meant to know." He had that strange look in his eyes for a brief second before it disappeared as quickly as it came and his smile returned. "I think they are just tests or something."

Suspicion sparked in Dean. Something was not right about that kid, although Dean could not seem to figure out what. Maybe he was thinking too much. It probably wasn't weird at all for his personality to shift like that once you got to know him. He needed to go finish cleaning so he could get out of here. He just wanted to go home away from all this weirdness and it was only his first night.

Dean finished his meal and stood up to drop his plate in the bin. The other workers waved him off and he headed back to his wing. He walked back up to the large desk and made to grab his rag but coming up empty. He frowned to himself, looking around the desk to find it on the floor.

He probably missed the desk when he put it down. Dean shrugged and picked the rag up, continuing to disinfect the rest of the table surface and the two stools that were placed before the desk.

He went back to his cart to get the cordless vacuum he was to clean the floor with and made quick progress with vacuuming the floor. Afterwards, he grabbed the steamer and began to sanitize the floor as well.

Sure was a lot of work for a place that already looked extra clean. Once finished steaming the floors he put everything back in his cart and got ready to leave.

The feeling of being watched was worst than ever and he turned to the experiment floating in the liquid. He frowned, wanting to just leave but suddenly feeling as if he forgot something very important. He checked over his list, skimming to see if he missed anything.

Dean glanced up once more at Castiel, frowning more and wondering if the feeling was all in his head.

He decided to take a walk back over to the tank, pausing to look up at the pale man. The feeling that was once so strong was now weak, nothing more than a forgotten itch in the back of his mind.

"I'm not crazy, right?" He thought aloud, murmuring to himself. Bubbles rose to the surface of the liquid as he watched the dark hair sway. His experiment couldn't be the one making him feel like that, could it?

"You tryna tell me something, Cas?" Dean nearly jumped as the doors _whooshed_ open and he turned to see a tired looking man in a white coat coming through the doors. How stereotypical.

Dean turned away from the tank and walked briskly to his cart and grabbed it to push it back. The feeling returned tenfold but he did his best to ignore it. He spotted a white tag on the front of his jacket that read _Charles Shurley._

On his way past the man, he could have sworn he heard him muttering about someone being active, but he could have imagined it

He didn't look back as he stripped out of his uniform and parked his cart in the supply closet. He hadn't realized how much time had passed. It was already morning.

It was time for him to go home.

He walked out to the parking lot once more, waving one handedly to Charlie and Kevin on his way to his baby.

Dean started the Impala and pulled away quickly, the feeling of being watched never quite leaving him even after he was home and in bed.


	3. Chapter 3

It was very easy for Dean to think he imagined the feeling of being watched all last night during work. The feeling of someone watching right over his shoulder, easy to push off for him being paranoid and more than a little freaked out about some person floating in essentially a big round fish tank. He had every right to be weirded out.

But did he honestly think the person was responsible? They weren't even conscious for crying out loud! He let himself be caught up in the creepy ass vibe of the facility.

Well, not anymore.

He wasn't going to let some shit job get the best of him and freak him out. Wasn't worth it.

He wasn't even going to be there that long, anyway.

He rolled over in bed, watching the dull numbers of the alarm change by the minute. After thirteen minutes of watching the clock, he decided he should get out of bed and make dinner before Sam came home.

Not like he was some housewife or some shit like that, he just liked to cook and since him and Sam lived together he was forced to eat Dean's food whether he liked it or not. Besides, someone had to make sure the sasquatch ate.

He lazily stepped into the kitchen, opening the fridge to grab the ground hamburger he had placed in there to defrost. He dumped it into a bowl and grabbed various spices, throwing them in without measuring in a casual manner like he's done this a thousand times. Cracking an egg to hold the burgers together, he kneaded the ingredients together with his hand while the little grill top griddle they had heated up.

He scooped out decent portions of the well mixed hamburger meat and flattened them into patties. He made five total and as they sizzled on the hot griddle he grabbed some condiments, setting them out on the counter.

He flipped the burgers and admired the healthy looking brown with several dark burn lines running across. Perfect. Grabbing some buns, he opened them up and tossed them on the edges of the griddle to toast as the burgers finished.

Dean heard the front door open and close and grabbed two plates.

"Hey Dean," his brother Sam said as he stepped into the kitchen and breathed deeply. "Smells good."

"Heya Sammy." Dean greeted easily in response, flipping the burgers one more time to check their progress before deeming them finished. He placed the toasted buns on the plates, piled the burgers on top and loaded his just the way he liked it.

Plopping down in a chair at their small kitchen table, he bit down into the burger as Sam sat across from him.

"Work again tonight?" He asked easily and got a nod in response from Dean.

The two men finished their burgers in relative silence after that, Dean contemplating whether or not it would hurt to tell Sam about the freaky ass dude in a fish tank. He decided that he wouldn't say anything for now.

Getting up to put his plate in the sink, he moved to stand behind Sam, placing his hands on his shoulders.

"Clean up's all yours, Samantha," he said, giving a squeeze and stepping away.

"Awww, c'mon, no way man I just got home from work."

"Too bad, bitch. I gotta get goin' to work."

"Jerk." Sam grumbled, eating the rest of his burger as Dean walked back to his bedroom, chuckling.

The drive to work was short, Dean too lost in his thoughts to pay attention to the time. Pulling up that night, he almost faltered getting out of the car.

"Relax, man, s'all in your head."

No way in Hell was he going to let some weird ass feeling get in the way of work, whether he actually liked the job or not. He entered his codes easily enough, went to his cart, put on his uniform and went to the Thursday wing.

As soon as he walked through the doors he was hit with the feeling of being watched that was so intense the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. It was absolutely smothering.

He gripped his cart tighter, knuckles turning white from the effort. Once the doors closed, he noticed the same guy from the night before was still in the lab. He was absolutely frantic, muttering to himself and quickly writing things down on a legal pad.

Dean strained to hear his quiet, but panicked words.

"...okay, promise. Everything is okay, why are you upset? Don't be upset, what happened?" He wrung his hands together nervously. "Finally got you calm, what changed?"

Th'hell? So he wasn't imagining that feeling that was so thick in the air he could have been breathing sand.

He cleared his throat, causing the smaller male to jump and look over at him. Sudden clarity dawned on his features and he muttered beneath his breath and wrote something else down. Dean frowned.

"Did I, uhh, interrupt something?" He asked, not loosening his grip and trying to ignore the overwhelming feeling of being watched.

The scientist shook his head.

"No, no. I was just leaving." He quickly gathered his notes, tucking them under his arm and moving to slip past Dean.

Dean put his arm out to stop him. Alarmed eyes met his.

"Listen, man. I got something to worry about being in here with this thing?" He narrowed his eyes.

"Oh no, no nothing. He's harmless, curious, but harmless." The words were spoken quickly, nervously with a spastic nodding of the head. Dean used his larger build to tower over the man and intimidate him. "Maybe a little upset, but it's fine! I promise, don't hurt me I'm just doing my job! Harmless!"

Dean seemed content with that response so he leaned away, nodded and pushed his cart further in the room. Charles practically scrambled out the door.

Dean sighed through his nose. It was going to be a long, uncomfortable night, especially with this feeling draped over him like wet concrete.

But nonetheless, he grabbed his cloth, a new one for sanitary purposes, and his disinfectant and started to work his way around the room. If he thought the night before was stiling, he had no clue what he was talking about. This was ridiculous. There was no way a feeling this strong could be chalked up to nerves.

He glanced up, eyes narrowing slightly at the experiment in thought. Well, it couldn't hurt.

"What, you mad cause I didn't say hi, Cas?" For a moment he thought he felt the heavy air fluctuate. Maybe the experiment really could hear him. In that case... "Well hey, Cas. How ya been?" He paused, feeling the stirrings continue. No fucking way was this going to work, but he might as well try.

"Good? Good. Me? I'd be better if you _turned your freakin' mojo off_. " Air bubbles rushed to the top of the tank. "You're all over, man. A guy's gotta breathe and I can't do my job with you breathing down my neck." As he spoke, he waved his arms.

Suddenly the intense feeling lifted, the air becoming light in the room once again. The feeling was still there, but so faint that he would have to really pay attention to notice it now. Dean was more than a little freaked out, but hey, everyone needs a friend right? Damn scientists probably never taught the guy manners or some shit. A slight smile in disbelief lit up his face for a fleeting second. It actually worked.

"Wow. Uhh. Thanks, Cas. That was, uhh, thanks." He rubbed the back of his neck before getting back to work.

It was much easier to work now that he didn't have some freaky experiment trying to smother him in feels.

He made his way silently around half the room before the feeling came back. He groaned.

"What now, Cas? Did I do something wrong?" At the sound of his voice, the heavy air literally lightened before going heavy at his silence again.

Oh. The experiment wanted him to keep talking.

"Well, I don't have much to say, man. I can't just talk nonstop. Gonna lose my voice that way. But I'll tell you what," he paused and lifted his cloth in a gesture toward the tank. "Every once in a while I'll say something. How's that? That work for you, Cas?"

He waited, looking at the experiment for his answer. He got it when the air seemed to become lighter than normal.

"Guess that made you happy, huh?" He asked as he went back to work.

This time, however, he threw in a few comments here or there.

He made comments about how creepy the lab was, how he was sure he'd be happier covered in grease, how he couldn't believe that what he said could not only be heard, but responded to in a way as well.

It was totally a sci-fi nerd's dream, but even though it was a little weird for him, he found himself growing steadily more comfortable.

When it was time for lunch, he tossed his rag down and went to head up the short flight of three stairs to the door. Just as he was a few steps away, the air grew thick with a vengeance. Once again it was stifling, so much so that Dean lost his breath. He groaned.

"C'mon, man. A man's gotta eat! I can't spend all my time in here with you!" If he thought the feeling in the air was stifling before, he had obviously no clue what he was thinking.

It almost pained him to breathe.

"Knock it the fuck off, Cas! You can't throw a hissy fit if I try to leave! Quit being such a baby, man! I'll be back for fuck's sake!"

He trudged out the room before he could say anything to the floating man in the human fish tank.

He was kind of ticked off, he couldn't do with attachments, and yeah, the experiment was probably lonely but it had scientists to bother all day. He was going to come and go as he pleased whether the experiment liked it or not.

Stepping into the cafeteria, Charlie waved him over excitedly.

"Hey dude! What's up? How's night numero dos?" She asked.

"Goin' good I guess. Lemme grab some grub."

Dean stepped over to the buffet before she could really respond and started filling a plate.

Tonight there was some kind of popcorn chicken, some weird pasta in creamy sauce that was either alfredo or garlic and herb, pizza, meatloaf, which he stayed faaaar away from, mashed potatoes and corn. There was no pie for dessert so he made due with a piece of chocolate cake. He made his way back to the table.

He gave a slight wave with his free hand as he set his plate down with the other.

"Hiya guys."

Charlie, Kevin and Garth all responded simultaneously with a light "hey." Bella sat on her phone, picking lightly at her pasta absentmindedly. Adam ate mechanically, obviously somewhere far off in his head and Samandriel was nowhere to be found. That was odd. It's not like Dean knew him well, but from what little he did know, he gathered that Samandriel wasn't the kind of person to just bail on work. Maybe he got caught up cleaning.

"Where's Samandriel?"

At this, Adam finally snapped to attention.

"'Dunno, he wasn't in his wing. I usually meet up with him before coming to lunch, but he wasn't there. Guess he took off or something." There was a weird edge to Adam's tone, not that Dean really heard much coming from him at all. Maybe it was just his nerves, which were pretty much shot from the moment he walked into his wing and Cas decided to go all 'smother-you-in-feels' on him.

"Does that happen a lot?" Looks like he wasn't the only one freaked out in this creepy ass place.

Charlie frowned, pushing her mashed potatoes around on her plate. "I'm sure he just needed a break or something."

"Maybe Miss Naomi is havin' a meeting' with him." Garth supplied helpfully, dorky smile ever present on his face.

"It's not entirely uncommon. He is her main toy, after all," came Bella's suave voice. He was sure she wasn't paying attention. Guess she proved him wrong. "No need to twist your panties, Adam, he'll be here same as ever again tomorrow night."

So that's why Adam was so spacey, he was worried about Samandriel. Well, seeing as they had who-knows how strong experiments all around them, he'd be worried too.

Adam nodded, going back to eating his food. Dean followed suit, eating quickly. He listened more than he spoke.

He learned that Kevin had an extremely strict mother and his own expectations of himself were just as, if not worse, as hers. He learned that Charlie totally batted for chicks and that she loved Harry Potter with a passion. He learned that Adam had a dead beat dad that he only ever saw twice a year. He learned that Bella was a destroyer of all that got too close to her. He made a mental note to not try to get mixed up in that. He learned that Garth was actually a pretty popular guy, he had many stories of friends and family and he seemed very fond of them. He was already growing on Dean, the kid was so goofy that he couldn't help himself.

Lunch passed quickly and soon he was strolling back over to his wing. He expected Cas to be sulking or some shit, making it thick like quicksand again, but was met with relative peacefulness.

There was no flicker in the air, no fluctuations of air pressure, no smothering feelings.

Huh.

It should have made him feel comfortable, but instead he felt oddly uneasy. Did he perhaps offend the experiment? He lifted a hand to rub awkwardly at the back of his neck.

"Uhh, heya Cas." Dean greeted slowly, he wasn't sure what abilities his experiment possessed and if it was anything like Charlie's, he didn't want anything thrown at him because he was being a dick.

But he didn't get any response. Nothing. Not even a bubble.

He frowned, but got back to work anyway. He worked quickly, methodically disinfecting and sweeping and mopping and then finally steaming.

He put everything back on his cart and moved to exit the lab but paused. He cleaned everything in this place but Casus tank. Maybe he should.

He grabbed a new cloth and sprayed some Windex on it, stepping over and wiping the glass down swiftly. He paused mid-wipe, biting his lower lip before taking a breath.

It wasn't usually his style, but seeing as the experiment was unable to really respond, he had to take the high road.

"Listen, Cas. I, uhh, just wanted to say sorry. Y'know, for being' a dick and all." He paused, worrying the inside of his cheek before continuing. "You probably don't have many friends, and that's cool man. No harm in that. But you probably don't want to lose any either, but you won't with me. I'll come back, okay?"

He didn't even know why he was doing this, saying anything at all. He didn't do chick flick moments, but the guy was straight up ignoring him.

"Just, chill, okay? See you tomorrow." He tapped the tank once and turned to leave.

As he made his way across the lab and to the doors, he could have sworn he felt a comfortable warmth surround him.

That was the first night the dreams started.


	4. Chapter 4

_Fire._

 _That's the first thing he feels followed by agonizing pain._

 _He tries to open his eyes, but he can't._

 _He tries to scream, but he can't._

 _He can't move._

 _His heart is pounding quickly, adrenaline spiking._

 _He tries to listen, but all he hears is muffled voices._

 _Where is he?_

 _Does anybody even know he's there?_

 _Is he going to die?_

 _He tries to curl in on himself only to realize that he already is._

 _The fire dies down only to be replaced moments later with the most frigid cold he's ever experienced._

 _It burns almost as bad as the fire._

 _The voices grow louder and he thinks if he can concentrate hard enough, he can make out the words. But the chance never comes._

 _The voices fade._

 _It's quiet._

 _The only sound he can hear is his heart beating rhythmically in his chest._

 _God, it's so_ cold.

 _He wants to shiver, he wants to rub his arms, he wants to do anything but sit there._

 _But he can't. His body is unresponsive._

 _He hears faint muffled noises again, voices? He's not sure._

 _They get closer._

 _Will they help him?_

 _Behind his closed eyes he can see the brightest light, can hear the deep voice that accompanies it._

 _It's the most beautiful light he thinks he has ever seen._

Help! _He tries to signal the light, tries to let it know he's here and he needs help. The light flitters around the edges._

 _It grows closer._

 _It's so close now he can actually make out the words it says to him._

 _"...Hope you don't mind Cas._ "

Dean jumped awake as if water had been splashed on him. He felt chilled to the bone and shivered violently for a few seconds until he could focus on how warm his body actually was.

If that wasn't the weirdest dream he's ever had, it had to have been in the top three.

Why the fuck would he even have a dream like that in the first place? He knows why, because he's working in some creepy ass sci-fi horror movie waiting to happen.

He runs a hand through his hair, exhaling roughly and looking over to his alarm clock. Sam would be home shortly from work.

Dean shook his head again, trying to dislodge the weird sensation of bitter cold seeping through his body.

He's not one to pay too much mind to dreams but this one has shaken him so thoroughly just by how vivid it was. Like it was _him_ experiencing all of that and not just some conjured up fucked up fantasy from his mind.

The last thing he heard was what he's pretty sure were the first words he had said to his experiment.

He paused, staring ahead and pondering on that before scoffing with an audible ' _yeah, righ_ t.'

He flipped his covers over and swung his feet out of bed, wincing slightly when they met with cool wood. He went over to the bathroom, took a quick shower and got dressed for the day.

Dean went to the kitchen, wrote a note to Sam telling him he wouldn't be home for dinner and grabbed his wallet and keys and headed out to his baby for a needed drive where he could lose his thoughts and himself in his loud music.

Three hours later and a nearly empty tank of gas saw him pulling up to the large, bland building where he was currently employed. He walked into the building and was headed to his wing when he heard the sharp _click-clack_ of heels and two voices.

Ones he quickly recognized as Naomi and Samandriels'.

He knows he shouldn't, but he ducked into the supply closet and pressed his ear to the door. There was something fishy about those two and maybe it could be chalked up to the weird vibe in the lab but maybe it was because they were just plain shady.

He listened intently as they grew closer.

"And with _him_? How is he dealing?"

"Still no response, ma'am. Mr. Shurley writes of a response but I feel him grow ever more still. He locks himself from us. I am unable to get a clear read from him."

The two walked right by the closet, and Dean could only listen to so much before they had walked too far once more.

He released a breath he hadn't even realized he had been holding and pushed open the door to continue his way to Thursday.

He guesses they were talking about one of the experiments, but isn't Samandriel a cleaner like him? They weren't supposed to worry about the experiments, they were there the he disinfect and clean up after a bunch of nerdy adults who couldn't do themselves. Maybe he had another purpose to his job, it wouldn't be unusual. People were given additional tasks to complete along with their primary work all the time. There was no reason for him to find it weird at all that he might have a supplementary reason to be here other than to clean.

Hell, his cleaning might be the secondary purpose even.

And what's going on with the lock deal? Is somebody hiding from them in a room? Aren't all the locks code accessible?

As he listened to the woosh of the large sliding doors open, he stepped into the rather cold area of the Thursday wing. Goosebumps immediately raised on his arms and he instinctively looked around for a thermostat.

For a split second, all he could think of was the burning cold that had run through his veins before he woke. Dean shook his head and rid himself of the thought.

He gets that it's supposed to be cold for sanitary purposes, but this was ridiculous. He was freezing, here! And he hadn't even been in here a damn minute!

He spotted the same scientist from the night before frantically jotting down notes.

"Hey man, you mind turning the heat up in here? Didn't bring my scarf and gloves."

The man flinched at his voice before nodding quickly. He was so twitchy and just plain weird that Dean kind of felt bad for the guy. Seriously, who could live being so wired?

"Yeah, uh. Sorry about that. Just part of the tests." He muttered as he went over to the wall and pressed some buttons to turn the thermostat up.

As if realizing what he said halfway through his task, he froze.

Dean didn't miss what he said and didn't think his superiors would be all too happy if they thought he was telling the janitor secrets. Not that he was, but bosses are assholes and that was something Dean had learned from his previous places of employment

"Don't worry, man. I ain't gonna get you in trouble." He said easily to the small guy. He nodded.

"Thanks. Appreciate it." He replied quietly.

"The name's Dean Winchester." Dean said, holding his hand out to shake.

"Chuck, you can call me Chuck. Uh, Shurley." Chuck reached out to grasp his hand, frigid fingers wrapping around his larger hand. They gave a firm shake as Dean nodded his head toward Castiel.

"If you don't mind me asking, what's up with him?"

"Oh, uhm number Five? He's one of the experiments here. But you already knew that, right? They had to have at least told you that much." After Dean had introduced himself, he noticed that Chuck wasn't so twitchy. Good.

"Yeah, man, I'm asking about why. What's the point?"

Chuck began shaking his head.

"Can't tell you. But I can tell you that he's supposed to help the world or something. Naomi calls them her Angels." He had this little nervous tick of tapping his fingers anxiously on his thigh and looking around frantically.

Dean nodded his head in understanding.

"That's quite the thing to call a bunch of people floatin' in fish tanks."

Chuck let out a short burst of a laugh.

"That's one way you could look at it."

Chuck's face went pale and his body rigid a moment later when the air in the room grew dense and heavy.

He opened his mouth to say something but Dean was walking past him with his cart and already speaking.

"Glad to see you too, Cas." Was his easy response. Chuck visibly blanched when the air abruptly returned to normal. He looked like a fish with the way his mouth kept opening and closing.

"Y-you?"

Dean turned around and gave Chuck a weird look as if to say 'go on'.

"Me?"

"You talk to him? He responded to you?" He sounded as if he couldn't believe it, which confused Dean because from day one fish boy was messing with him.

But Dean felt a fierce protective streak suddenly and did not say the truth and instead played dumb.

"Oh, that? Thought that was nerves from workin' in this creepy ass place." He tried laughing it off, playing it down, but it was clear from how anxious Chuck was acting that it was anything but common occurrence. Suddenly, Chuck grabbed his hand and pulled him to the back of the room and glanced over his shoulder.

"Tell _no one_." Was all he said before he heard the doors open and the sharp click of heels announced their newcomer.

They both glanced over at the light haired brunette.

"Evening, gentleman. Is there a problem?" Came her even voice, ever formal and ever grating on Dean's last nerve that something was seriously wrong with this chick.

"Everything's fine, Miss Naomi. Charles here was just telling me to be more careful with the equipment." He wasn't sure why he felt the need to lie or cover anything up, but Dean knew that he should not tell her the real reason.

 _Tell no one_ echoed through his head and it was as if his suspicions were confirmed and now he knew he had to be on guard.

Seeing as Chuck was the one who told him, he supposed that the twitchy little guy was probably not on their side.

"Is that so?" Cold, calculating eyes landed on the scientist and his movements were once more frantic and anxious as he nodded his head.

"Yeah. Yeah. Found a scratch on beaker today." He supplied, licking his lips nervously.

"I'd suggest you exercise more caution with the equipment, Mr. Winchester. It's all very expensive." She seemed to look down her nose at the two before gesturing for Chuck to follow her. "If you'd be so courteous, Mr. Shurley."

He nodded once before following obediently, glancing back to Dean once more before leaving the room.

The instant the doors closed he was surrounded by warmth and he swatted the air around it.

"Cool it, Cas. Glad to see you too." He narrowed his eyes at the door before setting off to work mechanically.

"M'telling you, man, there's some freaky shit happening here." He said offhandedly to the experiment, shaking his head.

He worked quickly again, making light one-sided conversation here or there to keep Castiel pacified.

He talked about his dream of being a mechanic. He talked about Sammy and how proud he was of him. He talked about his Uncle Bobby, and even brought his old man into the picture.

"Man, there wasn't ever a damn thing that could stop that man when he was after something. Big hunter. He traveled for it. I always wanted to go, but I had to look after Sammy." He paused, remembering briefly before shaking his head. "Good ol' Dad. Meanest sonofabitch out there, but he did all he could for me and Sam."

When he left that night, he said a fond goodbye to Castiel, even calling him 'buddy' as he walked out the door.

As his head touched his pillow, he was unaware of what awaited him.

 _The sun felt pleasantly warm on his skin, the beer in his hand cool and the wind blowing was faint._

 _It was his favorite dream._

 _He sat at the end of a wooden dock, fishing line in the water and rod secured in his hand._

 _He could hear the birds chirp pleasantly at one another. The lake was large and a deep, dark blue and he knew eventually he would catch a nice sized bass._

 _He sipped his beer before an increasingly familiar pressure unsettled the peaceful air and he instinctively looked to be sure he wasn't in the lab._

 _A rapid clicking from his reel signaled to him that he had a fish hooked and it was running with his line, fast._

 _He grabbed his rod to bring it in, quickly cranking the reel until the line went taught._

 _He didn't have a chance before he was pulled into frigid water._

 _He fought to get back to the surface, kicking his legs and swinging his arms madly but the fish was swimming down and pulling him further._

 _He released the rod to swim harder, he wasn't sure why but he felt such unbridled panic at what was waiting for him in the water._

 _It wasn't safe in the water and the freezing cold that surrounded him only served to deepen his panic._

 _He's gone swimming in this dream before and never, ever has the water been anything but a pleasant cool to chill him after a nice day of fishing. Never before had he been pulled in._

 _Never before had he been so terrified._

 _Suddenly he was naked and felt tubes and wires tangling his arms, he had get to the surface!_

 _His lungs began to burn with the effort of holding his breath but his efforts did not slow._

 _Hushed and murmured voices surrounded him, only confusing him further in his struggle._

 _He was going to drown._

 _He was going to_ die _._

 _They were going to kill him._

 _One of the tubes tugged at his skin before fire began to once more race through his body._

 _The pain was agonizing._

 _He opened his mouth to scream but choked on water._

 _He was going to die._

 _He wanted to thrash harder against the pain but found himself curling to the fetal position again._

 _Pure fear worked through his body and mingled with the blazing fury that sought to destroy him from the inside out._

 _He couldn't wake up._

 _He couldn't get out._

 _He couldn't_ wake up _._

 _He felt a sharp nudge to his mind, a sudden smothering feeling of heaviness before his panicked thoughts all cleared and the only thing that ran through his head was a single word._

 _A name. Spoken from a voice so deep, but so soothingly rough and quiet that it immediately calmed him. It called to him and he felt safe, he felt protected despite the confusing turn of his now nightmare._

 _"_ Dean!"


	5. Chapter 5

" _Dean_!"

His own name is always the first thing on his mind when he wakes every morning. His name spoken in a deep rumbling rasp of a voice that sounds as if its owner has just woken up. He would find it a pleasant voice if not for the terror that accompanies his dreams.

The dreams continue for the next week straight. It wouldn't be so bad at home if he didn't have Sam's look directed at him every morning followed by questions of 'Are you alright, Dean?' and 'If you ever need to talk...'

Dean always brushes him off with an insistent 'I'm fine.'

At first it was only at nights so he was able to escape the pain and panic for an hour or two of pure, dreamless bliss, but that changed quickly.

Soon it was even five minute power naps that had him jumping awake in a blind panic, breath heavy and heart pounding wildly with his name echoing through his head. Dean hadn't gotten a decent night's sleep in six days, and had even been trying to catch a twenty minute snooze in the cool air of the lab.

His coworkers never mentioned Samandriel's strange disappearance nor the fact that he seemed perfectly buddy-buddy with everyone one moment, then stone cold and cut off like a robot the next. Dean never mentioned it either but preferred to observe quietly. His hunches are usually spot on, and he had a serious hunch that something was seriously wrong with that kid and this place.

He grew closer to Charlie, Kevin and Garth but maintained a professional distance with Bella, Adam and especially Samandriel. He even went so far as to exchange numbers with Charlie and Kevin so they could text and maybe meet up for a movie night sometime. He found that out of all his coworkers, he liked those three and Chuck most of all.

He skipped lunch the past two nights though, choosing to sit and talk to Castiel, even if he never verbally replied. He thinks he's getting the hang of the experiment's method of communication down pact now. Heavy feeling? Bad response. Light feeling? Good response.

Every night he is greeted with such a light feeling that he can't help the smile that light his face as he greets the sleeping form with an easy 'hey, Cas.'

Chuck had been around more over the past few days as well, and Dean had been slowly learning more and more about the experiments and the facility he spent his nights.

It would seem that out of all of the scientists, Chuck is the only one that Castiel had attempted to engage.

Dean now found himself talking to Chuck about Castiel.

"But the craziest part is that I think he chooses who feels his influence and who doesn't." Chuck often tended to speak with his hands, gesturing wildly when passionate or excited or using small waves when calm. "I made the mistake of documenting the sensations when I felt them in the middle of the work day. I had thought that everyone else felt them, so I had assumed they documented it and did so as well. That's why Naomi came and got me the one day. I guess she's anxious to see who wakes up next or which one shows signs of awakening."

Chuck paused, seeming to gather his thoughts before finishing. "If you ask me, it's either him or Monday that'll wake up next."

Dean glanced at him curiously.

"You really think so?"

Chuck nodded before glancing at the clock and jumping.

"Oh! I gotta get going, it's very late. I don't want to keep you."

"Nah, man. It's cool, get home." Dean waved him off with one hand absentmindedly.

Chuck said his goodbyes and scurried up the steps and through the doors while Dean grabbed his supplies from his cart and set about sanitizing and disinfecting.

His eyes burned and his movements were sluggish from lack of sleep the past few days. He tried not to think of his reoccurring nightmares, but sometimes he got swept up in the feeling of burning from the inside of and frozen water surrounding him that he had to fight just to cling to reality.

His hands trembled slightly while he worked and he decided right then and there that he couldn't hold it in any longer. He wasn't going to tell anyone, damn sure wasn't going to mention the dreams to Sam. But surely it wouldn't hurt to mention them to Cas? Little guy couldn't offend him with some far fetched hypothesis that couldn't be further from the truth.

But thinking about it, even he didn't know the truth.

He figured it couldn't hurt so he started telling the experiment what was has been plaguing him. The air remained nice and light, a sign that Castiel was in a good mood that day.

"So, uh Cas. You ever have dreams in there?" He glanced up, nervously licking his lips before nodding his head at the lack of response. "I don't even know if you know what dreams are, but they're like movies your brain plays while you're sleeping. Sometimes they're good, they feel good. But other times..."

Dean trailed off, shivering slightly and returning to wiping everything down with renewed vigor.

"Other times they're pretty shitty, I mean you feel pain and sometimes it's so intense you can't even figure out what's real and what's made up." He set his rag down to the side, beginning to organize the papers on the tables methodically. "Well. Lately I've been having the bad ones, man. Can't get no sleep. They won't friggen' leave me alone. No matter how much I drink, they're still _there_."

He paused, a stack of papers in hand as he glanced up at the massive tank.

"It's like fire, man." He swallowed and looked down at the papers. "Fire and then ice and I can't see anything. Can't hear nothin', it's only pain. Can't even ask for help. But it's the same thing. All the time. Same, exact thing. It always ends the same way. Always ends with-"

" _Dean_." The air dropped for a split second and it felt as if a giant weight had settled in the room before disappearing altogether.

Dean stopped short, eyes going wide and mouth falling open.

 _The voice_!

He looked frantically around, eyes scanning the entire area. It was empty.

The only person there was him, him and Cas but he was a fish right now and he's pretty sure fish don't speak.

"Ahhh," Dean groaned. "Look at me, so fucked up that I'm hearing shit now."

He returned to his task with more focus, mouth set in a deep frown.

The air around him seemed to ripple in curiosity, sliding between light and heavy in a dizzying spin that had him pausing his movements to look up at the experiment.

He studied the male quietly.

He noted that his short, dark hair still managed to sway in some unseen current. The IVs in his arms seemed to be the same ones, but from what Chuck had told him, they were replaced every day to keep any bacteria from growing. Dean wondered who had the unfortunate task of getting that close.

He took noticed of pale limbs that should look frail and weak but instead looked slightly muscled. Perhaps it was because of what he was, Chuck had reminded him several times that what lie sleeping in the tank was not human, no matter how similar it looked.

He wondered what his face looked like and was startled by the sudden pang of intensity that shot through him at the thought. He felt as if he needed to see Cas' face.

Not that it would happen.

Guy was sleeping in water, after all, he couldn't move his arms.

He found himself standing right beside the tank, eyes focused on the face hidden behind arms before the sound of the doors opening had him jumping around before he could stop himself.

"Hey, Samandriel." He spoke before the kid had even a small chance to open his mouth. He probably looked quite guilty in that moment, guilty of what? He wasn't sure, but if there was ever a telltale guilty face, he was sure he had it.

"Dean." He breathed pleasantly, a kind smile on his face. He wasn't someone else tonight, awesome. "We hadn't seen you for lunch, I was wondering if you'd like to join us?"

Dean hesitated. He hadn't gone because he didn't want prying eyes to see the circles under his own, the restlessness that comes along in slight twitches and light trembles from sleep deprivation and long nights.

Should he go?

A slight sliver of heaviness that twirled around his head gave him his answer before he had made up his mind.

"Nah, man. Not feeling too hungry tonight." He brushed it off easily, spoke as if it was no big deal.

If Samandriel was disappointed, he didn't show even a sliver.

"Oh, is something bothering you? Are you feeling unwell?" Concern laced his words.

"No, no, nothing like that. Just not hungry." He spoke assertively, not aggressively, just forcefully enough to convey that he would not budge on this.

"Alright, well you know where to go if you should change your mind."

 _Not likely_.

"Yeah. Thanks."

He returned to work not even a second later, keeping his back to the door and listening for the whoosh that signaled when the other male had finally left his wing.

The rest of his night passed uneventfully.

He cleaned, he made a comment here or there to keep Castiel happy and he finished up a half hour early.

Instead of leaving right away, he caught himself staring at the tank again. He felt drawn to it, as if something were calling him but he chalked it up to not really being able to talk to anyone else and his unique little weird friendship he had going on. If he could even call it that.

When he got home, he made sure to drink at least a pint of whiskey before stumbling off to bed in hopes of drowning out his ability to dream.

If only it actually helped.

 _There was only so many ways Dean could describe the hot fury that ran through him that night. Only so many words to put together in an effort to process in his mind what took place._

 _Nonetheless, he dreamt of the fire once more._

 _It ran, swift and searing, throughout his body in a ruthless quest to destroy that he was sure he would be screaming and writhing had it not been for the fact that he physically couldn't move._

 _He had had this dream enough times that he started paying attention through the fiery haze to other sensations such as a slight tugging and pulling at his arms. A light pinch at the creases of his elbows._

 _Through the murmurs he always inevitably heard, he picked up on one in particular that could swear sounded like Chuck._

 _But, as always, before he could focus and know for certain his body was consumed by a frigid rush that cut through the heat so thoroughly that it caused a burn more severe than the fire itself._

 _The two temperatures contrasted so greatly that this is what Dean imagined broke hot coffee pots when you immediately rinsed them in cool water._

 _After all, it broke him every time._

 _He didn't think he would ever get used to this._

 _He didn't think he would get used to the pain, but he knew for a fact that he would never be able to escape the blind panic that always gripped him._

 _He tried to gasp in shock at the rapid change in temperature, couldn't even grind his teeth together to help bear with the pain._

 _Would he ever get out?_

 _Would he every escape the cold, rigid claws of his nightmares?_

 _He didn't think so as another wave of frigid fire washed over him._

 _As always, just when he thought he would never escape, that he would be stuck forever in this brutal hell of his, his angel called out to him, saving him from another moment of torture_.

"Dean!"

The next morning had found him sitting up in bed and gasping wildly as he fought to calm his erratic heart and his shaking hands.

He pressed a hand to his forehead and squeezed his eyes shut. He ground his teeth in a thin effort not to scream out in frustration.

He was _tired_.

He was so done with these freaking dreams that he was willing to drink himself into oblivion ten times over if it meant not having that dammed dream again.

He dressed slowly, ate a meager breakfast of toast with butter and headed out to work.

At least when he drank so much he was able to sleep longer, no matter how restless and unrewarding the sleep was. No matter how much more exhausted he was after, sleep was still sleep.

Dean entered his place of work in a daze, not paying much mind to anything really as he made his way to the supply closet to stock up, slip on his jumper and head over to Thursday.

In some ways, he was beginning to enjoy being at work a whole hell of a lot more than being home because at least he didn't have to worry about accidentally falling asleep and succumbing to one of his awful nightmares again.

He listened to the doors open with a vague acknowledgement and stepped through. He noted that Chuck wasn't there this time before nodding his head in greeting toward the center of the room.

"Hey, Cas." He said in greeting, as was his usual.

What he didn't expect, however, had him damn near on the ground.

" _Hello, Dean_."


	6. Chapter 6

Sorry this is a little late.  
To be honest, I had had the entire rest of the story thoroughly outlined and decided that I didn't like how it flowed. It was just really weird to me and I didn't like it. So I did some tweaking and I think I almost have it to where I'll be satisfied. But I'm really not too happy with the way this chapter turned out. I'm sorry it's so short. I don't know if the chapter flows really weird or if it's just me, I'm not sure.  
Anyhow,  
Let me know what you _think._

" _Hello Dean_."

Green eyes darted around the room once more, taking in the cool gleam of stainless steel and noting the lack of any other body in the vicinity. His gaze settled on the tank in the center of the room.

Wide, blue, blue eyes met his and he could have sworn he felt a physical jolt from the base of his neck to the backs of his heels in that instant.

Awake.

Cas was awake.

 _Castiel was awake_.

Was this supposed to happen?

What was going to happen now?

What should he do?

Before he realized he was moving, he was already right in front of the tank, captivated by how blue the experiment's eyes were.

Maybe it was the water that caused that hue? Surely it wasn't human to have such blue eyes.

 _The bluest blue to ever blue_ , a fleeting thought.

Dean swallowed, should he be afraid? This was, after all, some strange experiment in some odd facility that had a bunch of people in giant fish tanks. He probably should be afraid, Dean thinks to himself, but he can't find it in himself to be afraid, not when Cas is awake and staring at him with the oddest expression as if he is struggling to make sense of something. _Oh_ , he even tilted his head to the side. He reminded Dean of a puppy with that movement.

" _I am not a canine, Dean_."

Dean jumped, that deep, deep rumbly voice that he's been hearing every night running through his head. He had an idle thought in the back of his mind that perhaps he should be angry at that, angry at the lack of much needed sleep and angry at the agony and terror that seized him tight each time, but he was preoccupied with making sense of what was happening right before him.

Castiel's lips did not move, nor did Dean voice any of his thoughts.

 _Can he freaking hear my thoughts_?

" _I do not hear them, so much as feel them. Although, they are quite loud so I suppose that yes, I can. We are connected_." Again, no movement of his lips. No sounds going in his ears save for the occasional eruption of bubbles. That deep voice was just... in his head.

"Connected? What the fuck?" Dean was beginning to get very, very weirded out. His mind was catching up to current events. And hey, maybe he was in a daze for a few minutes, but that's to be expected when you're in sci-fi central with the fish guy who had, up until that point been sleeping, all of a sudden decided to hop right in to your head and start talking.

" _Our minds, we share a profound bond._ "

 _Great_ , now he had some special bond with the fish guy. Even if he did have amazing eyes, that was just weird on some level that he didn't even want to try to understand right now for fear his head would literally implode from overload.

" _I am not a fish either, Dean_." A slight flicker of annoyance washed through his brain with that sentence.

He can feel emotion through it too?

A slight thrill ran through him, was he the first to experience this?

" _I can assure you that I have no such bond with any other being_."

Dean pointedly decided to ignore the elation that sang loud throughout his veins at that statement and even more so the answering contentment of his excitement through this new connection.

"This is a lot to take in, man." Dean sighed, running his hand over the lower half of his mouth. And it really was.

He was sure that this could go one of two ways. On one hand, Castiel could turn out to be completely batshit crazy and go on a murder spree (as is expected of a science experiment.) On the other hand, he could turn out to be some puzzle piece with the other experiments for some strange quest for world domination.

He didn't think that either of those things were viable options.

The doors opened behind him and a flicker of alarm rang through his head (that he would later recognize as an emotion that was not his own) as he turned to see Samandriel standing at the top of the stairs. All emotion abruptly ended from Castiel and Dean wondered if the experiment had walled himself off or if Samandriel had done something.

He had seemed perfectly normal when he first walked in but as soon as his eyes landed on Cas, it was as if a switch had flipped and instantly that cold, distant gleam was in his eyes and his face seemed to harden. He noted that he was no longer curled in the fetal position, but was actually stretched out as if standing.

"It is good to see you have awoken, brother."

 _Brother_?

Before Dean could think too much on that last word, the young male reached out an arm to enter a code in the electric box for the door and a loud click sounded throughout the wing. The lights overhead turned off and the room was bathed in a deep red. Only Cas' tank shone blue, like a beacon of light in a dark abyss.

Dean whirled around, feeling intense distress as he looked at Castiel. The experiment did not meet his gaze but instead stared over him to Samandriel by the door. His gaze was cool, eyes a frigid blue that Dean was sure wasn't the color he could remember seeing just a few moments ago.

He opened his mouth to speak only to be cut off by a loud, ear splitting alarm screaming out around them.

No matter how many times Dean tried to think on what had happened that day, he can honestly say he wasn't prepared for what had actually happened. Maybe for some scientists or something, but not for an entire private army.

Seconds after the alarm starting, a swarm of scientists in white and guards in black rushed the room. His arms were taken roughly and he was guided out of the room. He fought, trying to get back over to Cas who looked absolutely stoic. He tried to ask questions, find out what was going on, but all he got were responses of ' _it's for your own safety_ ' and ' _number five is highly unstable right now_ ' and other loads of bullshit that he could care less about. All he wanted to know was what was going to happen to Cas.

He thought that maybe Chuck would be there and fill him in, but the small male just acted as if he hadn't heard a word he said, the little prick.

He did not see Samandriel anywhere.

That little asshole had called Castiel his brother, and seeing as they both had weird ass names, Dean was beginning to question whether or not he was even human too.

That was one can of worms he didn't want to delve in too deeply because then there was the possibility that anyone else at work could also be one, too.

He waited in the main lobby of the building for hours, waiting and waiting to hear something, anything about what was happening in that wing. Through the entire time, though, he did not once think of Castiel as a threat. He was actually worried for the little guy. Dude was awake for all of five minutes before all hell broke loose.

He tried to find that connection Castiel spoke of, tried to see if he could feel anything or hear anything and even tried napping against the wall, but it was all silent. Not even any fire and ice dreams.

The moment Samandriel appeared, it was like Castiel had switched personalities completely. He had seemed, to Dean at least, to be just a real quirky dude until the other male appeared. Then he seemed like he was something bigger, some higher being in the way his body posture suddenly straightened, formal in the way soldiers hold themselves at attention, and his face hardened like stone.

It rubbed Dean in all the wrong ways. That look was wrong for his experiment, it wasn't who he was.

Well, honestly, did he even _know_ Castiel well enough to decide if that thought was true or not?

No, he supposed, he didn't. He didn't know, and that was the problem. Even if he couldn't fight the nagging sensation that he _really did_.

That was the moment he decided he'd just go home, no point in staying if he wasn't gonna work. No point in trying to learn what happened with some fish guy who just woke up that he didn't even know at all.

So that's what he did. He went home and he went straight to bed. He ignored the sour feeling in his gut. He ignored the nagging sensation in the back of his head that something bad could have happened and he would have never even known.

He slept without the slightest hint of a nightmare, without even a whisper of his name.

He had never felt more unsettled.

The next day he tried to go to work, he received a phone call from Naomi.

"You sure? It's no problem for me to come in and help out anywhere else."

"I'm quite sure, Mr. Winchester. The next three nights are yours to spend however you please. We have much to learn of experiment Five and he will be under constant watch." Her voice was cold, detached, impersonal. He hated it. He was, for some ungodly and unknown reason, worried about Castiel.

"Yeah, sure. See you in three days."

And Dean shut his phone.


	7. Chapter 7

"Come on, Dean. You're moping around like someone stole your puppy. You're really so upset about not going to work?"

"For the last time, Sam, drop it." An exasperated huff of breath accompanied the reply.

It had only been two days and over those two days Dean had not had one single sliver of anything from his experiment. Tomorrow evening he would be returning to that building. He wondered if his job was going to be the same. Disinfect. Sanitize. Organize. It was disconcerting, even more so to him for he was not one to get pissy over little things like that. He was starting to wonder when his balls turned into ovaries.

"Dean, I understand that something happened that's bothering you, but you can't just hold it all in and sulk around the house. Are you sure that you don't want to talk about it?" Sam continued to press. He was pretty concerned about Dean but honestly he wasn't supposed to know anything. Dean wasn't permitted to say and even if he did feel like breaking that part of his contract, he didn't feel like dealing with Sam's shrink mode.

"For the _last time_ , fuck _off._ Since when did your degree change from law to psychology?" Dean set his jaw and squared his shoulders as he turned to face his brother. "I'm fucking fine. Got it? One more word out of your mouth about my job and I'm staying in a motel tonight."

Sam pressed his lips together, clearly unhappy with his reluctance to talk but not wanting to cross any more lines and piss Dean off. He nodded a few times before saying he was headed to bed and thanks for dinner. A slight pang of guilt hit Dean in the chest.

Dean slid back into his chair and pressed his fingertips to his temples. He wasn't as worried as he was in the beginning of his three-day "vacation" but there was definitely anger growing in his chest. He could feel the heat spreading up his neck and pooling in his cheeks, burning up any ounce of worry he may have been feeling.

How in the seven hells was Castiel going to wake him up every night for over a week then go ahead and open his eyes talking about some stupid ass connection, that was obviously totally bogus because he hadn't heard shit, and then not give Dean even a _hint_ that he was okay?

He was pissed and getting more pissed with every passing hour. Castiel had better have a good fucking reason for this shit.

He picked up his plate, half uneaten, and dumped the remainder of his food in the trash bin before placing it in the sink. He got some ziploc containers out and scooped the rest of their dinner out from the pots and pan they were cooked in and sealed the plastic bowls with their respective lids. He set them in the fridge and got to work washing the dishes.

Normally he would leave the dishes for Sam but the past couple days he was cooking and cleaning. Their place had never been cleaner.

He spent his spare hours methodically scrubbing every nook and cranny, sweeping and wiping down every surface. He even wiped the doorknobs. Maybe it was because he was so used to cleaning from his job, but he was pretty sure the only reason he was doing it at all was to keep himself busy and not replaying every word Castiel had said to him.

He was freaking pathetic. Yeah, he got a little attached to his little experiment. Spending every night with only the little guy for company would do that to a person. His fondness could be easily explained.

Although, he would never admit to anyone that he enjoyed talking to Cas. Never admit that when he learned the quirks of the experiment's personality that he felt as if he had solved some great puzzle. He liked the fact that everything was either a good feeling or a bad feeling, heavy air or light air and it was as simple as that.

So yeah, maybe he did have a little bond with the guy. So what?

Maybe he was totally thrilled that he had finally woken up and admitted that it was mutual. Maybe he was totally psyched that they would finally have a real conversation. Maybe, in another circumstance, him and Castiel could have been great friends. You know, if he wasn't some crazy science experiment that grew up in a fish tank and all.

But it wasn't any other circumstance. His first real conversation with Cas had been very confusing and somewhat disappointed. Of course, what had come immediately after had thrown him for such a loop that he was sure he was still trying to get his bearings back together.

He was supposed to go back to work tomorrow night and he found himself, once eager and impatient to get there, slowly reluctant for not knowing what will happen.

Would he see Samandriel? He's not sure if he would be able to stop himself from saying anything or doing something that could possibly result in sore knuckles and a lack of employment.

Would he see Chuck? The little shit completely ignored him. Acted like he wasn't even there... Although Dean supposed he couldn't get too angry at the lack of response. Chuck had mentioned many times to him that he not tell anyone they spoke. Maybe he'd get shit for it, who knows. Or maybe he knew that he wouldn't be able to answer Dean's questions. In that case, a little recognition would have been fine. A shrug. A funny face. Anything would have sufficed.

But more importantly, not that he'd ever admit, would he see Cas? He was pretty upset with the guy. It's not like it was honestly his fault that things went down the way they did, that rested on Samandriel's shoulders and his shoulders alone. Dean was positive that if the kid hadn't walked in when he did, that him and Castiel could have spoken all night with each other.

Groaning, Dean finished rinsing the dishes and put them in the rack to dry.

There was just too much going on in his head. Too many thoughts and possibilities that he had no solutions for. He should just go to sleep. He should crash for now and wake up tomorrow and make things right with Sam. He knew it was only concern for his wellbeing that fueled his little brother's worries and he was being such a douche about it. He needed to get his shit together.

Make up with Sam. Go into work, find out what the fuck happened and then do his job. Go home. Sleep. Then work again the next evening.

He could do this. He had this.

Easy.

It was going to be easy.

In retrospect, it was a lot easier to say he was going to wake up early compared to actually _waking up_ early.

He rolled over groggily, squeezing his closed his eyes tighter together and reaching his arms up to stretch his stiff muscles. It felt amazing. He got out of bed and went immediately to the bathroom to splash cold water on his burning, sleepy eyes.

Part of the whole 'making up to Sammy plan' was waking up earlier than him and making him a good breakfast with some even better coffee. It would save him a stop at the nearest donut shop and a few bucks too.

He padded to the kitchen, sleep still trying to cast it's spell over him and pull him over to the unconscious side of life.

Yawning hugely, he scratched at the back of his neck before getting some eggs, a green pepper, a mushroom, two sausage patties and cheese out of the fridge and then a frying pan out of the cabinets. He sliced the pepper and mushroom and broke up the sausage, placing them in a bowl beside the stove. Then Dean cracked several eggs in the cool frying pan and mixed them with a spatula. He leaned over to the fridge to grab the milk to add about a tablespoon and put it back again. Under his breath he hummed For Whom the Bell Tolls by Metallica.

Mixing the eggs once again, he turned the burner beneath on and waited for the clear whites to turn, well, white. He sprinkled the contents of the bowl beside the stove over the raw parts of the omelet before grabbing a lid and placing it over the pan for a few minutes.

While he waited for that to cook for a bit, he began to fill the coffee maker. Fresh filter, check. Fresh water, check. Nice, heaping scoop of fresh ground beans, check. Beating of the drums with his fingers on the edge of the counter, double check.

He flipped the power on and went back to the stove to take the lid off and carefully flip half of the eggs over to make a half circle. Dean then slid over to the cabinet to grab a plate, halfway pulling it from the cupboard when he was startled with a quiet "Dean?"

He nearly dropped the plate, scrambling to catch it securely in his hands and placing it hurriedly on the counter.

"Mornin' Sammy!" Dean nearly shouted, bright smile stretching across his face.

"Uhh... What are you doing?" Confusion won over the taller male's face, sleep clearing away sluggishly.

"What? Can't make my baby brother some food anymore?" He countered, turning to turn the stove top off and sliding the omelet out of the pan and onto the plate.

"It's not that, it's just you're up so early? Don't you have work tonight?" Sam squinted at Dean, clearly not buying his innocent breakfast making. He knew his brother better than that; there had to be a catch.

Dean sheepishly moved to set the plate and a fork and a knife on the table by his brother, motioning for him to sit. He cleared his throat. He was doing this to make up for being a dick, he needed to see this through and try to make it as manly as he could, not making it a chick-flick moment.

"Just uhh," He licked his lips nervously. "Just wanna say sorry. You know, 'bout bein' a dick."

There. He said it. Quick and painless. Got it over and done with. Now he didn't have to say it again.

Sam, though, visibly started at the admission.

"Who are you and what have you done with my brother?" He laughed out, plopping down in a chair and pulling the plate closer. "Smells good, Dean. Thanks man."

"Don't get used to it." Dean quipped, sliding a glass of orange juice in front of his brother and taking the opposite seat. He tapped his fingertips on the surface of the table idly while Sam cut off a corner of the omelet, spear it on his fork and pop it into his mouth.

"This is pretty good." His brother said around chewed food.

"That's because you're looking at a master chef." He lifted his chin arrogantly, pursing his lips together.

"Yeah, yeah. Or maybe assassin extraordinaire. You trying to poison me or something?" Sam narrowed his eyes suspiciously before his mask broke and he chuckled.

"Guess the world will never know, man." Dean shrugged, putting on an over exaggerated innocent expression.

The two brothers chuckled together, the tense atmosphere from the previous days between them nonexistent.

Dean was definitely beginning to feel better himself.


	8. Chapter 8

Feeling better had lasted only so long and it only made sense that as the day grew older that Dean had found himself getting uneasy at the thought of returning to work.

Having sat for three days with nothing much to do beside clean and sit in his thoughts left him feeling several different ways that he wasn't entirely sure he was comfortable exploring.

He did his brotherly duties just this morning to fix the stress on his relationship with Sam, the tension and strain fading away through their breakfast. Sam accepted his meager apology for being such an ass about the whole thing and let it slide without further question. Shortly after finishing his omelet, his brother had to get ready and leave for work, waving with a quick bye as he slipped his shoes on at the door. Dean didn't know why he even bothered to take his shoes off at the door, he tromped around the place all the time in his shoes. He didn't care, floors were meant to be walked on and if he was walking with a pair of shoes on his feet then so be it. He didn't like cold floors on his feet, especially when waking up in the morning(late afternoon) and having to trudge around half-asleep.

After Sam had left the house, Dean made himself useful by washing the dishes methodically and putting everything away. He even wiped the table down and decided to just go ahead and give the whole place a once over before heading back to bed to catch some z's for work that night. If he was being completely honest with himself, he was hoping for one of his weirdo dreams to come back and show him that he and Castiel still shared that strange bond he had mentioned.

Imagine his disappointment when he woke up a few hours later to find that he slept without even a hint of a dream and soundly the entire time. From the moment his eyes opened his mind went on a straight path to Cas, the damn dude dominated his thoughts every moment until he got to work.

He mainly tried to focus on what would happen when he got to work. Would he be there? Would they have moved him to a location that could carefully contain him? Would Dean even see him? Or, if he was still there, would Dean be stuck cleaning an empty lab? Forced to look at an empty tank in the middle of the room and remember nights when he could talk about anything and everything and laugh at the experiments odd way of communication?

Dean wasn't sure he could stop himself from looking around for the experiment if that was the case. The little(actually quite big) guy really grew on him, and yeah, their first real conversation wasn't the most ideal but he didn't care. He considered the guy his friend, on some strange level.

Dean was absolutely positive that in another life they would have been the very best of friends, laughing with each other and making fools of themselves as they acted like goofballs because Dean wouldn't have to act all big and bad, Castiel as his best friend would already know how he really way.

He decided that no matter if he saw Samandriel or Chuck that his focus for tonight would be to make sure the experiment was alright. The two of them weren't even his concern because in all honesty they were probably just doing their jobs and what they were supposed to do and he couldn't really fault them for that. He could be angry at how everything turned out, though. It was bullshit that it had to happen that way. But, that wasn't what he was worried about for tonight.

He was worried about his next interaction with Castiel. Would it be a negative experience? Would it be a positive one?

As he pulled into the parking lot, he took note that everything looked exactly the same. He wasn't sure what he was expecting after the way everything ended a few days ago, maybe some small difference? But from the outside, everything looked just the same. Bland. Business-like to a painful degree. It was a cardboard cut-out of a professional looking landscape that was just enough to look well manicured but not enough to look warming or welcoming in any way. Dean shut the door to his Impala and took quick strides up to the door, determined to see this night through no matter what happened.

He was going to get answers tonight, even if it didn't exactly end well for him because, hey, isn't Cas some strange experiment with unknown powers? What if Dean pissed him off and he decided he wasn't even worth the air he breathed and vaporized him on spot? He let out a slightly nervous chuckle at that thought because it was entirely possible that that could happen, Dean was an expert at pissing people off.

He entered the cool building without a glance back.

Everything looked the same, white everywhere so bright it was almost unnatural how pristine it was. The only difference was that there was what looked like a guard at the entrance to the main hall that lead to each of the wings. That was new, maybe they thought Castiel was really that much of a danger that they needed to up the security. Dean shrugged and made his way past the stoic man to the supply closet. He grabbed his cart and checked that he had enough of all his supplies, donned his jumpsuit and made his way to Thursday. He was grateful that his cart and everything on it had been left untouched and he was able to find everything just as he left it a few days ago, plus a list for the new codes to the doors. He was worried that when it was returned that they would have cleaned it off.

The first thing he noticed while walking down that hall was that now, before every entrance to every wing, were two guards stationed on either sides of the doors. That was very, very new.

What had happened while he was away to cause that to happen? He wasn't so sure that Castiel was the one to cause so many guards to be placed everywhere.

He nodded his head to the burly men in black at the entrance to Thursday and punched in his code, waiting for a few seconds as it registered and the doors opened for him.

It was like stepping into another wing completely compared to the way he remembered it.

Everything was still stainless steel, still tables and desks and chairs at the front of the room. Castiel's tank was gone, the eerie light that had bathed the room in a light blue was gone as well. Now it was bright, like the rest of the building. The room was just as cold as he remembered it, though. But it was the giant pane of thick glass now blocking off literally half of the humongous area that caught his attention and held it.

The doors closed behind him and he stepped further into the room, down the few steps to stand among the desks and tables to really take in what he saw before him.

The glass was thick, very, very thick. It had to have been at least a good five inches. He swallowed as he took in the area behind the glass. White. Everything was white. What was with this damned place and the color white? It felt like being in a hospital, a fucked up, seriously wrong hospital that grew people in fish tanks and locked them in giant rooms. There was a small bed, expertly made and seemingly untouched in one corner. There was also a toilet and a sink, a small table and only one chair. Nothing else. It was impersonal, cold, and so, so upsetting that Dean found his stomach clenching painfully in his midsection.

Standing just off to the side of that small table was Castiel, and _man,_ did he look different.

Large blue, blue eyes stared into his, looking nothing like the other night that he was almost taken aback. They were hard, closed off and looked so very wrong to Dean. When he first caught hat gaze they were deep, brimming with unknown emotion. He stood up straight, posture stiff in the way he held himself. He stood like a soldier, tense and waiting for something to happen. Which was seven kinds of fucked up because he was just a little fish dude floating in a tank a few nights ago. He wore loose fitting scrubs, white of course, and large white slip-ons on his feet. They were clearly too big for him. His black hair was tousled messily, thick and looking like curious hands roamed all through it only moments before he walked in the door.

His throat felt tight, his stomach rolling in knots uncomfortably. He knew it was wrong, he _knew_ Castiel wasn't meant to be locked up in some pristine prison behind glass. He didn't even want to think about how everyone treated him. Did they speak to him? More importantly, did they treat him like a person or just like a number? He supposed the latter. Did they feed him? Did he even need to eat? Were they cruel to him? Did they hurt him?

Dean was surprised with how upset he was getting at seeing Castiel like this. Yeah, that in itself was weird as hell because he honestly didn't even know the guy but he felt like he did, deep down on some unconscious level, and that was good enough for him. It felt second-nature to be worried and protective of the experiment. Dean always trusted his gut and right now, his gut was screaming at him how wrong this entire situation was.

But Dean never vocalized any of his thoughts or emotions out loud.

He couldn't escape that dead stare, it started to really bother him. Those eyes weren't supposed to be empty. Just what _happened_ over the past few days?

He'd never let Castiel know he was worried, let him know that he spent the past few nights worried beyond reason that the experiment was hurt, or sometimes not even there anymore.

It was almost too much to be worried and upset, but it was definitely much, much easier to be angry and that was something that Dean was good at. So, Dean was going to be angry. He narrowed his eyes in a nasty glare at Castiel, not at all surprised when there was a lack of reaction.

He clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth, just behind his front teeth and turned around to head back to his cart and grab his shit.

He set to work cleaning, almost rough in the way he'd basically toss the papers aside to wipe beneath them. Everything went in neat piles, unused beakers and test tubes were wiped down and placed neatly in their respective spots. As usual, he always saved the large desk in the room for last, as that always had the most papers on it and it always took longer to sort through everything. He was positive that if Sam had been the one in his position, he would have spent hours just looking through all of the papers. He would understand all of the technical jargon because he was such a big nerd and big nerds spoke the same language. Dean snorted, it made perfect sense in his head.

He could imagine Sam giving Castiel the third degree, asking him any and every little question that popped into his never slowing mind. He'd be like a kid in a candy shop, where Dean felt like he was in some kind of punishment.

Fucking Cas was still just standing there, watching him like a total creep.

It was different when he was in his fish tank, it was different when he had first woken. It wasn't creepy then, really, to be in the same room with him. Not since he began to understand the way he manipulated the feeling of the room, the weight of the air and know that it was just Castiel, trying to reach out. He missed it, he missed being able to prattle on about nothing in particular while he worked, laughing when he could tell the experiment was confused about something he had said. It had become comfortable for him, he was beginning to enjoy cleaning up that cold, cold wing for he had the warmth of something he could have sworn was akin to friendship.

He and Cas? It was complicated, but he would admit to being at a total loss if he were to cut ties just because some shit went down. Dean Winchester doesn't turn, tuck his tail and run at the first sign of hardship.

He felt his resolve hardening, he would approach Castiel, and he would confront him about what was bothering him. He would do this and if things didn't pan out his way, he'd let sleeping dogs lie.

The Castiel he had first met after the experiment woke up was not the same as this one, he was determined to bring his Cas back.

He turned to face the experiment and found him predictably still watching him. He took a deep breath and large strides toward the thick glass wall.

"What's your problem, huh, Cas?" He began with, his words coming out gruff. "Why won't you say anything to me now? Too good to bother with the janitor anymore?'"

No reaction aside from Castiel staring heavily at him.

"What, you get out of your fish tank and work your land legs and now I'm not good enough for you to interact with? Is that it? Are you too good for a lowly human?" Dean was hitting too close to his own worries with that one.

The corner of Castiel's lips twitched downward in a frown. Finally, a reaction.

"Did you enjoy your little vacation without me? Bet that was nice, huh? Time away from the annoying human?"

Cas' head tilted to the side as if trying to work through what Dean had said before his eyes narrowed threateningly.

"Do not speak of what you do not know." He spoke with his actual mouth that time, not through Dean's mind like last time. His voice was low, rumbly and deep and curled around Dean in a rugged caress. He really, really liked that voice.

"Oh, yeah? Well, it's pretty hard for me to _know_ anything with you, isn't it?" Dean stepped closer to the glass, now only inches away from it and maybe a foot in total from Castiel. "'Cause all I know is what you told me, something about a bond? Guess that was total shit, huh? There is no bond, is there?" That _really_ got a reaction from the experiment.

" _I did not lie to you, Dean Winchester._ " He growled out, entire body tensing as if he was preparing to spring.

"Oh yeah? And _how can I believe you_?" You came out saying one thing, and now it's a different story to me." Dean shrugged his shoulders, putting off a show of nonchalance. "Whatever, man. I'm not beat for this shit." He made to turn away from Cas but a _thump_ on the glass caused him to pause and look back.

Cas' fist was on the glass, and damn, Dean was right about the thickness. How hard did Castiel hit that glass to make that loud of a noise? Just how strong was he? He met the experiment's blue gaze, finding the ice melting away with emotions. Once again that blue gaze was deep, not shallow and cut off.

"You do not understand, Dean." Came the low statement.

"Then make me understand, Cas. I ain't gonna know shit if you don't fill me in." It had worked, his goading and his harsh words had worked to bring to the surface the experiment he had met a few nights ago before Samandriel had ruined everything.

Cas seemed to hesitate before pressing his lips together.

"There is much I can not explain to you right now." Dean opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by that deep voice again. "There are too many prying minds here."

Dean glanced around with furrowed brows. "Uh, Cas, I'm pretty sure we are the only ones in here."

Pink lips pressed together as deep blue looked past him to the door.

"All will be made clear, Dean." Castiel said with an air of finality.

Great, Dean thought, now he'll have to wait even longer. But honestly, he didn't mind it. He had broken through that stony exterior and brought back the experiment that he had first seen when it had awoken.

"So, Cas, how's life?" Dean said instead, changing the subject. He wouldn't dwell on the fact that the experiment had never let him know exactly when he would let him know what was up.

"Life?" He tilted his head to the side. "Life is, as it ever will be, the diametrical opposite of death." He deadpanned seriously.

"That's not what I meant." Dean mentally face-palmed. Damn, this guy was literal. "Let me work, we can chat again during lunch."

Dean turned away from the experiment, heading back to the desk and continuing to tidy up and wipe down. This shit got real messy while he was away, fucking science geeks not able to even put papers where they gotta go by themselves.

So, Castiel would tell him everything. He didn't know when, he didn't even know if it would be here or in his head or anything, but he did have his word that he would tell him. Honestly, that put a light reassurance on Dean's mind.

He would speak with Cas again, and it wouldn't be about some dumb shit. He would finally know what actually went down the past three days and what had happened to the experiment. He felt better. He had been dreading returning to work that afternoon as evening approached but he found that all of his worries were pretty ridiculous. He hadn't run into anyone and Castiel was speaking to him. They broke the metaphorical ice.

Dean had a lot of questions, there was a lot to learn. Sam would have been in heaven.


End file.
